autumn dreaming

I woke up from a dream this morning. Well, more to the point- I woke up this morning from a dream when my cat Agnes came into the room meowing at me to wake up. In the dream it was autumn{already} and I was writing about it being autumn. There were red and orange leaves on the trees in the front and back yards and I took a few photos and compared them here, on this blog. One before, as in the transition to autumn, the Japanese Maple tree in my front yard with a few red leaves here and there. Can you believe there are red maple leaves in my front yard {even now}?

The other was a glorious photo of red and orange leaves in the backyard, which won't really happen, not now or later, because the Silver Maple in the back always has golden yellow leaves. Her leaves change much later than the Japanese Maple's (who I usually think of as a male, in case you wondered. The Pin Oak out front is also male.) And I love how in the dream I could be both then and now, looking at leaves that are changing now (in waking life) and seeing that as then (in my dream) and how I took both of the photos- both then and now- at the same time, moving only from the front yard to the back yard.

In the dream I posted the photos and then began writing a post with something like "Autumn is here!" The tone was one of finality and interest and enthusiasm, of course, all wrapped up into one. And I notice as I write this now, this writing is eclipsing the writing in the dream {that seemed so clear before}. And that is the way of it. The dream has done it's job of {waking me up}- inspiring me to wake up and write. Wake up and notice. See what is then and what is now. Think of that, all of it all at once and knowing what will come, but not quite, and making it up as we go along. And the sheer beauty of it. The dream got that right on as well. I felt as though I had never seen such beauty as in those red and orange leaves.